Page 57 of The Jester

Silence descends.

I look over at the cell. It is silent there too. No one is crying.

Maura meets my eyes and wraps her willowy fingers around the bars as she stares out at me.

“Thank you,” she says.

Chapter Twenty-Four

ALANA

Finn kneels in front of me and places his hands on my knees. Tears stain my cheeks and congeal in my throat, and I hurt so much I can hardly move. He squeezes lightly until I look at him.

“You took away their pain.” He smiles from beneath his mask. “You did good, Alana. You did a good thing.”

“But it hurts so much.” I press my fingers to my temples. I feel like my skull might explode.

“So, now let me help you.” He stands and cradles my face in his hands, brushing my tears with his thumbs.

Finn’s touch is gentle, like the flutter of a moth’s wings against my skin. I close my eyes and let myself lean into his warmth, seeking solace in the darkness behind my eyelids. When I open them again, his eyes bore into mine with such intensity that it feels like he’s peering into the very depths of my soul.

“I can make it stop hurting, Alana,” he whispers. “The way you did for them.”

I nod wordlessly. I would do anything not to feel like this anymore.

Finn moves away from me, and heads for the curtains. I watch, confused, as he unfastens the large rope ties that hold them back and, instead, winds them around his hands.

The dim light casts elongated shadows across the room, and suddenly, everything about the way he is moving seems different. Darker. More forbidden.

“I’m going to teach you how to bind my wings,” Finn says, his voice low and hypnotic. “And then you can do whatever you like with me. I’ll be yours. You’ll have all the power. You can use me until you don’t hurt anymore.”

His words seep into my skin and send shivers of anticipation through my veins.

I watch as he unfurls the rope, its fibres rough against my skin as he places it in my hands. My fingers tremble slightly as I take hold of it, the weight of his words settling heavily in my chest.

He kneels in front of me and stretches out his wings. “Press them against my body.”

I do as he says, and although he’s the one teaching me, I am the one with the power.

I feel it, and I see it in his eyes.

“Curl them tightly around my arms.” He winces as I follow his instructions, enjoying the sensation of manipulating his body with my hands. “Now, the rope.”

With each movement, each twist and knot he shows me, each jerk of tension that makes him groan, I feel more powerful. And less broken.

As the last knot is secured, Finn looks up at me. His wings are wrapped tightly around his body, pressing his arms at his sides. He can move his legs, but not his torso.

Reaching down, I take the piece of rope that hangs between his arms and secure his wrists, too. His eyes widen as I do so, and he dips his head in submission.

The air in the room grows thick with tension.

I know what I’m going to do next.

Sliding my hands down the side of his face to his neck, I can feel his pulse thrumming beneath my fingertips, a steady rhythm that matches the pounding of my own heart. I tighten my grip on his throat, and watch as he closes his eyes and gives into me.

When I stop, he opens them again and I see a flicker of something primal that matches the hunger in my core.

Roughly, I push him back against the cold stone floor. He untucks his legs from beneath him and lies there, bound for me, offered up for my pleasure.

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